Now That I'm Older by Adela
by Kelly Chambliss
Summary: Adela Edwards has turned 13, and now that she's so much older, she sees the world and S & M a little differently from the way she did last summer. Sequel to "My Journal about Life and Severus and Miranda." Severus/Minerva
1. Chapter 1

**A/N - - **Last year, for the "Severus Big Bang 50th Birthday Bash" on Live Journal, I wrote a story called "My Journal about My Life and Stephen and Miranda." Written in diary format in the voice of a young American girl, Adela, the fic pairs Severus with Minerva and is posted here on FFN; you can find it on my profile page.

I had such a fun time writing Adela that I've been wanting to do a sequel. Here it is. (You'll probably enjoy this story more if you read the original first.)

My thanks, as always, to my incomparable beta-reader, The Real Snape.

~ o ~ ~ O ~ ~ o ~

**December 8, 2000**

\o/ \o/ \o/ \o/ \o/ \o/ \o/ \o/ \o/ \o/ \o/ \o/ \o/

Yay, yay, yay! That's what those symbols mean - - yay. The circle is like a head, and the lines are like raising your arms to cheer. My best friend Rosa showed me how to do them, she does computer chats with kids from school, and they use alot of symbols so they don't have to type too many words. (I don't like to do chat because it always takes everybody so long to type anything. I'd rather just talk.)

The reason I'm saying YAY is that Rosa found my journal! This very journal that Dr. Reese gave me for my 13th birthday in September. Rosa called me after dinner last night and said, "Adela, guess what I found!" And I couldn't, because I never even thought of the journal, I thought it was gone forever. But it turned out to be what Rosa found.

I lost it only about a week after my birthday and I was just sick about it. I didn't tell Dad or Pop or anyone except Rosa, because I felt really stupid, and Dad would probably have said something about needing to be more careful. He wouldn't yell or anything, but he'd have been disappointed. He thinks it's important to look after your things, and he's right, but. . .well, anyway, I've got it back now.

It was in a pile of stuff under Rosa's bed that her mother said she had to straighten up or it would get thrown away. And now I remember that I took it to her house when we were going to jot down our plans for our Halloween costumes but didn't get around to it. I never even had a chance to write anything in it. The Halloween plans would have been the first entry.

After I lost it, I tried to write my journal on the computer, but I had to give it up. I just don't like word processors, not for personal writing, I mean. It's fine for school, but I like to write my journal by hand. It's old-fashion, and since I write alot about Stephen and Miranda, and they're sort of old-fashion, too, it fits.

Stephen Smith and Miranda Robinson are the couple that lives next door to me, and they are really interesting. He's all dark and mysterious and sarcastic, and she has glasses and a bun, and they're very formal and reserved. I explain all about them in my other journal.)

I've missed writing a journal. Dr. Reese was right - - if you write things down about your daily life, it can give you good material for stories. Dr. Reese and I still talk about how to be a good writer, and I think I'll get even better now that I can start my journal again.

This fall was a terrible time to lose the journal, because all sorts of interesting and/or bad things and also some fun things have happened since my birthday.

(It was the day after my birthday that I found 100% true evidence that a) Stephen and Miranda are in love with each other even though she is alot older than him, and b) she is definitely not his mother. I did get to tell that story, though, because I still had space in my old journal then.)

And now I can catch up. But I don't want to have to write down every little thing that happened in last few months, so I'll just give the highlights.

(That's what Dad always says when Pop goes into alot of detail about the crazy people in his Media Studies department. "Just the highlights, Tim," Dad says. "There's only so much Media Studies madness I can take. I'm glad people in engineering are saner than you verbal types. We don't have to be talking all the time." And Pop always teases back and says, "Sane? They're all borderline autistic, that's what it is, they can't manage to say three words at a stretch." And then they laugh, and Pop usually says something about how glad he is that I got all my talky genes from his side of the family. ((This is a joke because I am adopted and don't have any of their genes. But I like to talk, and so does Pop.)))

(N.B. - - Ask Dr. Reese if there is a way to put parentheses inside other parentheses without having three in a row. (("N.B." means "nota bene," that's Latin for "note well," and you can use it when you want to remind yourself about something or point something out to other people. I saw it in a book and Miranda told me what it meant. She and Stephen know alot of Latin.)))

Anyway, here are the highlights of what happened to Stephen and Miranda since that night they learned their friend died, and Miranda cried, and then I saw them kissing in their kitchen.* (*N.B.- -See my old journal, September 30, 2000.)

I have never seen them kiss like that again, with their mouths open and everything, because that was private, and they didn't know I was there. But since then, S & M (that's what Pop calls them) have been a little more open about being in love. Sometimes Miranda squeezes Stephen's hand or his shoulder, and when they came to our house for dessert on Pop's birthday, Stephen put his arm around her when they were standing in the front hall waiting for Dad to get their coats.

And one day when I went with Miranda to the shops, Stephen was sitting in the living room when we getting ready to go. She put her hand on his shoulder to tell him we were leaving, and he turned his head and kissed her fingers, just quickly.

So it's true they definitely are in love and sometimes they show it, and that's a nice highlight.

But there are weird highlights, too. Sometimes strange things happen around Stephen and Miranda.

It's not that I think they are spies or aliens any more.* (*N.B. - - see my other journal, August 23, 2000) They explained everything that happened that time. I thought the whisky bottle flew on its own, but it was actually on a pulley, and even though it looked like Miranda made glasses appear out of thin air, it was just a trick that her uncle who was a magician taught her.

Their explanations did make sense, and okay, now that I'm older, I see it was silly to believe they would be aliens - - like Dad said, if aliens came to Earth, wouldn't they want to do something more than just move into an American surburban neighborhood? And as for spies, well, what would they be spying on around here?

So after that night last summer, everything went back to normal, and up till my birthday, I didn't see anything strange with Stephen and Miranda. (Well, I did see them kissing and everything, but that wasn't strange, it was just private.)

BUT - - since my birthday, I have seen some more odd things next store. There is something really mysterious and unusual about Stephen and Miranda, much more than them just being from Scotland and her being older than him and just being old-fashion.

Here's what I think: I think they practice witchcraft. Oh, not like wicked witches on brooms with pointed hats or like Samantha in _Bewitched_ or anything like that, but maybe like a religion. Dr. Reese has a friend who is wiccan, and it's witchcraft, but not dark or evil or anything, it's very spiritual and natural.

Wiccans have rituals and use crystals and pentacles and amulets. Judith (that's Dr. Reese's friend) showed me some of her wiccan things. She believes in real magic, but she says it's not supernatural like ghosts or whatever, it's just using the strength of the mind and the spirit to harness the massive untapped power of the universe.

I think that's what Stephen and Miranda do. And here's why I think it:

Back in October, Stephen had been doing alot of work outside in their yard and garden, getting ready for winter. One afternoon I wanted to go over to see if he needed any help, so I peeked through the space in the fence boards like I always do, to see if he was outside.

He was, and he had a stick in his hand like the one Miranda used last summer when the strange plant attacked Stephen. A mini-blowtorch, she said it was. I thought maybe he was going to set fire to this pile of leaves and twigs on the ground in front of him (you're not supposed to burn leaves in the neighborhood, but some people still do it.) But he didn't - - instead, he just waved the blow-torch thing and said some Latin words.

Then I saw that the leaves and things weren't just all jumbled together the way they'd be if he'd raked them up. The sticks had been laid in a sort of triangle with another stick across it, and the leaves were in three small piles and they were strange colors: one pile was a sort of purple/blue, and another was black. I've never seen black leaves before.

Just then Miranda came out on the step and said, "Don't you think you should use at least a partial obscuro, Sevris?" (That's her pet name for Stephen. I'm not sure what obscuro is, but I'm pretty sure that's what she said).

And he said, "I can't risk it. You know the ingredients can't be exposed to anything except the stably (?) incantation until the moon rises. I don't want to have obscuro even close by."

"Well, you're making yourself quite visible, you know," Miranda said, and came down the steps toward him.

But just before she got to him, she stopped and kind of swayed a little. Stephen put his stick in his pocket and was at her side in a flash and grabbed her and said, "What's wrong?" in a really sharp voice, like he was anxious.

I was worried, too, but Miranda said, "It's nothing, just a moment's light-headedness, that's all," and she kind of pushed his arm away.

Stephen said, "That does it. If this potion doesn't help, I'm calling poppy." (Or he might have said "owling" or "drawing," I'm not sure. None of them make much sense to me, so it must be a wiccan thing.)

Miranda's voice was sharp, too, and she said, "Honestly, it's nothing. I'm fine. You can finish preparing the powder tonight and brew the potion tomorrow, and everything will be fine."

But I could tell Stephen was upset. He walked a few feet away from her and then turned around and folded his arms and said, "Damn it, everything's not fine. Not any longer. Yes, it was a relief at first, to get away, but now I'm tired to death of living like this, always having to watch ourselves, always. . ." His voice trailed off, and then he said, very quietly, "Minerva. It's time to go back."

(He called her Minerva once last summer, too, only at the time, I thought I heard him wrong. I guess it must be his pet name for her. It's a nice one, it's the goddess of wisdom. I looked it up.)

And Miranda walked over to him and put her arms around him and said, "Perhaps you're right."

Then they walked back to the house. They never did see me, but later than night, after it was dark, I looked out my bedroom window and saw Stephen in the back yard again, and he was burning the leaves in a tiny fire.

So that's why I think S & M are wiccans. Because

1. Stephen talked about incantations.

2. He was doing a ritual.

3. He said he and Miranda always have to watch themselves, and Dr. Reese's friend Judith told me that wiccans are often misunderstood, and people are against them and think they are evil Satanists and things when they really aren't at all.

But I also think that Stephen and Miranda are extremely good at being wiccans. I think they must have great magical powers. Judith said some wiccans do, that they are real sorcerers who are in touch with the powers of air, earth, fire, and water. And think about it: Stephen's ritual was about earth and fire, and last summer, the whole business with the dangerous plant had to do fire and earth, too.

Judith said sorcerers have an exceptionally strong Spirit. I asked her a lot of questions about wiccans when I met her, because as soon as she started telling me about it, I thought that being wiccan might explain Stephen and Miranda. And there are all sorts of ancient and mysteriously powerful things in England and Scotland, like Stonehenge. So it's not surprising they might have great abilities.

Miranda even said so about Stephen. I was in their kitchen, and they have a lot of herbs growing in little pots on a shelf. I said how nice they looked, and Miranda said Stephen not only grew them and used them in his research, but he uses them in food, too.

I said I didn't even know he could cook! Miranda just smiled and said, "Stephen is a man of many talents."

When I told Dad and Pop about it later, Pop laughed and said, "I'll just bet he is." He thinks Stephen is "sensually compelling," so sometimes he makes little jokes about him being sexy. But Miranda didn't mean it like that.

At least I don't think she did.

But to get back to wiccans, I know Miranda has powers herself. She admits she can do magic tricks. I know she said her uncle taught her, but she also said last summer that she still practices, that's how she learned to make the glasses seem to appear out of thin air. But she was so _good_ at it! I think she must have learned to harness the untapped power of her spirit and mind so that she actually can make things move by themselves. It can happen. Judith tries to do it, she said it is called teleken-something.

On the night that Miranda got dizzy and I saw Stephen do his ritual in the back yard, I was sure I knew what made Miranda feel light-headed - - I thought she had been trying to move things with her mind, and Stephen was going to make a potion to help her get better at it.

But the dizziness turned out to be something else. That's another highlight I want to talk about, and it's a really scary one. It happened on Halloween, actually, only really late, like about midnight.

I was already asleep, and Pop told me later that he and Dad had just turned out their light when there was this really loud banging on the front door.

It woke me up, and by the time I came out into the hall, Dad was going down the stairs in his bathrobe. Pop was standing in their bedroom doorway with the cordless phone in his hand, and after a few seconds, he yelled down, "What is it? Kids playing tricks?"

But we heard Dad open the door and say, "Stephen! Is anything wrong?"

It was Stephen making all that noise! He said, "My apologies. It's Miranda, she's ill. Could we impose upon you. . .hospital. . ."

He sounded really worried. He and Miranda don't have a car, so that's why he had to come to us. Dad said, "We're happy to drive you, but if she's really ill, an ambulance might be better."

Stephen said, "Yes, fine," which scared me, because I knew he must have thought it was really serious if he wanted an ambulance. Pop immediately started dialing 911, and he tucked the phone under his chin so he could talk to them while he was pulling his pants on.

I wanted to ask Stephen more about Miranda, but by the time I got downstairs, he was already leaving. I heard him say to Dad, "Thank you, I must go. I don't want to leave her."

And he actually ran home across the yard. I never saw Stephen run before.

Pop was giving S & M's address to the 911 people, so I went back to my room and put on my jeans and sweater, just in case. No one was noticing me, which was good, because I didn't want to be told to go back to bed like a little kid. I wanted to know what was happening to Miranda.

When Dad came back upstairs, Pop had hung up the phone and was putting his shoes on. Dad said, "One of us should probably follow them to the hospital. They'll need to get back home eventually."

Pop said, "And they might need help with admissions. God knows if they even have any insurance, they're used to that National Health. I'll go over to the house right now and wait for the ambulance with them."

"I don't know," Dad said. "They might not like that. You know how private they are."

"Oh, come on, this is an emergency," Pop said. "They won't mind. We can't just leave them to deal with it by themselves. She's sick, and they're all alone here."

"Well. . ." said Dad, the way he does when he's about to change his mind. "You're right, maybe they could use the help. I'll get dressed."

Pop was already heading down the stairs, and I started after him.

But Dad spotted me. "And where are you going?"

"I want to see how Miranda is," I said. "I won't get in the way, I promise. I'll be really quiet, they won't even know I'm there. _Please_!"

Pop had turned back, and he and Dad looked at each other. They both understand how important S & M are to me, and finally Dad said, "You can ride to the hospital with us, Della, but let's not distract the ambulance people, okay? Let them get in and start helping Miranda. Pop will tell us if there's anything else we can do."

Pop nodded at me. "Watch out the window," he said. "I'll come on the porch and give you a thumbs-up after I've seen her."

So that was that. I stood at the side window and saw Pop go in S & M's front door, and then the living room and porch lights came on. The ambulance showed up just a few minutes later.

There were two EMTs, a man and a woman, and another man to drive. They took in a stretcher and some boxes of equipment, and Dad and I could see them going through the living room.

I knew what they'd see when they got upstairs. I was up there once, one day when Miranda asked me to get a book for her. There's two small rooms up there that S & M use as their studies, and one large room that is the bedroom with a big bed and two dressers and more bookshelves.

By the time I saw the bed, I already knew they were in love with each other, but if I'd been able to see it last summer, I would have known alot sooner. People who aren't in love with each other don't sleep together in the same bed. And it's the only bed in their whole house. That's where Miranda would be, of course, if she was sick.

Pop told me later that he stayed downstairs while the EMTs were in the bedroom. Stephen was upstairs, too, but Pop said he didn't seem to mind that Pop had come over.

After a while, we could see people coming down the stairs again, and finally they brought the gurney out. They carried it down the stairs, and then when they got to the front walk, they let the wheels down. There was a white mound strapped on the stretcher, but you couldn't tell it was Miranda. Stephen was right beside her the whole way, and he got in the back with her and the EMTs, and then they drove away with the lights flashing.

Pop stayed behind to lock up the house and turn the lights off, and then he came home.

"She's pretty sick," he said. "High fever. The EMTs said maybe a massive infection. She was as white as the sheets, and I don't think she was really conscious. But Stephen. . ." He shook his head. "The man is beside himself. I hate to think what he'll be like if anything happens to her."

I said, "Is she going to die?" Because honestly, I hadn't realized it could be _that_ serious.

But Pop gave me a hug and said, "I think she'll be fine. Stephen's worried, but not so much that he couldn't be his usual Stephen self. When the first EMT got upstairs, I heard him say, really cheerfully, 'so this is our sick lady, is it?' and Stephen said, 'no, this is the sick lady's grandson.'"

It did sound like typical Stephen, and I felt a little better.

When we got to the hospital, we asked at the Emergency desk, and the lady checked for us and came back to say, "Mr. Smith is in one of the cubicles with the patient. His mother?"

"His wife," Dad said. I was surprised, because Stephen told us last summer that he and Miranda weren't married, but Dad explained later that he didn't want anyone asking questions about Stephen's legal right to be with her or make medical decisions for her. Dad and Pop worry about this sort of thing alot. Dad said they probably wouldn't ask for proof at this stage. And I guess that's true, everybody just assumes older straight couples are married. I did, until Stephen said they weren't.

After about an hour, Dad started to talk about taking me home and coming back later, but luckily Stephen came out to the waiting room before I had to leave. You could see how worried he was. He looked awful, it was like you could see his skull through his skin.

"Some sort of sepsis, they think" he said. (This is an infection.) "They're going to admit her, do some tests. Don't feel you need to stay."

So we did go home, because it was almost three in the morning, and I had school, and Pop had class at nine. But as soon as he dropped us off, Dad went back. He only has one lab on Wednesday afternoons, and besides, he agreed with Pop that Stephen needed someone with him even if he didn't think he did.

It's good that it was Dad. I think Stephen likes him; they're both kind of quiet and science-y, and they don't mind just sitting there and not talking. I don't mean that Stephen doesn't like Pop, not at all, it's just that Pop is really outgoing and Stephen and Dad aren't.

The next day, Dad was at lab when I got in from school, but he came home in time for dinner. He said he'd left the hospital right after breakfast. He tried to get Stephen to come home with him, to have a shower and some food and maybe a nap, but Stephen wouldn't leave Miranda. She was going to be there for a few days, with lots of antibiotics and stuff.

I asked how it all happened, and Dad said Stephen said that Miranda hadn't felt good for a few days and had been taking some of Stephen's home remedies, but then on Halloween night, she "took a fast turn for the worse."

Dad said he would have thought they would both know better than to use home remedies instead of real medicine, but Pop said if there was one thing he'd learned about S & M, it was that they weren't going to do things the usual way.

I didn't say anything about the wiccan ritual or the potion Stephen was going to make. I want to find out for sure that they're wiccans and about their powers and stuff before I tell Dad and Pop. I think it will be fun to surprise them with all my evidence, just like Nancy Drew the girl detective, because last year, when I was trying to figure out if Stephen and Miranda were in love, Pop said, "if there's a story there, Adela will find it." And I did. And I'm going to find out this one, too.

I wanted to go to the hospital and visit Miranda that night, but even Pop said no, let her rest. Dad went back to take Stephen some clean clothes and a toothbrush and things, and he did let me come with him to the house to pack them.

I kept hoping I'd see some family pictures or something to tell me about Stephen and Miranda's mysterious past, or some wiccan pentacles or _something_, but there was nothing. Their house is just so tidy, they don't even have newspapers or mail or anything laying around.

I looked at their books, too, because that's one thing they do have alot of, and I remember last year, Miranda was reading an old one with symbols in it, and I thought it was a different language, but now I think it was probably a wiccan spell book full of ancient lore or something.

But their books didn't actually turn out to be very interesting, just science and I guess philosophy and some literature like the kind Dr. Reese has. _Handbook of Practical Chemistry_, that's one title I remember, but I can't really think of any others. It's funny, because I really like to read, but somehow I just never can keep my mind focused on Stephen and Miranda's books.

Anyway, I didn't see Miranda until Saturday, when Pop went to the hospital to bring her and Stephen home. Stephen had stayed there with her the whole time, even at night; he slept on a couch in the lobby.

I made Miranda a welcome-home card, I colored a Scottish tartan background (I looked it up on-line, so I know it was right) and then drew a picture of her and Stephen in front. It was a "silhouette" picture, which means it was just drawn in all-black, like a shadow, because I am not good with faces at all.

I drew Miranda sideways so that you could see that she had her hair in a bun at the back of her head, because if I'd just drawn her straight on, she'd have looked bald. Stephen's hair is easier, just longish with the ends kind of straggly. I drew him from the side, too, so that you could see his crooked nose, which is what helps make him distinctive. Dr. Reese says drawing is like writing - - you find the thing that makes the character or person distinctive.

Dad and I went over when we saw Pop's car pull up, to see if there was anything we could do. Miranda looked extremely pale and tired, and she leaned on Stephen after she got out of the car. He kept his arm around her and was not sarcastic or impatient in the least. But once she got to the porch, she walked on her own, and she wouldn't let anyone help her off with her coat when we got inside. Stephen didn't even try.

Pop wasn't surprised. "They're both the sort of people who probably wish they could have 'DON'T FUSS' tattooed on their foreheads," he said.

But all that was about a month ago, and she seems fine now. Stephen is back to being snarky, but alot of times now he goes with her to the shops and places.

~~End of Chapter 1


	2. Chapter 2

**December 11, 2000**

I wrote so much last time that my hand hurt the next day. It's easy to get out of the habit of handwriting, the stuff I wrote the other day even looks a little sloppy.

But at least I got down everything about the two biggest S & M highlights: how sick Miranda was, and how I think they are both really powerful wiccans.

But there are some smaller, nicer highlights, too, like I'm going to bake a cake for Stephen's birthday. I found out that his birthday is January 9th, and I'm going to make a totally from-scratch cake and I'm going to do it myself, Dad and Pop will only help if I really need something. (Miranda's birthday is October 4, and she didn't even mention it!)

I wanted to cook a whole dinner for Stephen, but Miranda said while it was a "kind idea," Stephen doesn't like to do anything special on his birthday. He honestly prefers it that way! He doesn't want candles or people singing to him or anything. Not even presents. But she said she was sure he would appreciate the thought and that he would be glad to have a cake.

I'm going to write him a poem, too, and copy it out with curlicue letters and draw pictures of plants along the edges of the paper. I've got the first stanza already written, here it is:

_Today is the birthday of Stephen.  
__He likes to grow plants and he even  
__Gave me one of my own  
__From the seeds that he'd sown,  
__And I hope that he won't soon be leavin'_.

(I had to take the "g" off "leaving" so that it would rhyme. I may have to trash this whole thing and start again, though. It's harder to find things to rhyme with "Stephen" than I thought.)

I put in that "leaving" part because it's something that's been worrying me ever since the night Stephen did his ritual. I can't forget that he said to Miranda, "It's time to go back," and she agreed.

I hope hope hope hope hope hope HOPE this doesn't mean they are thinking of moving back to Scotland. That would be the worst thing ever. I kind of want to ask them if they're going to - - just in general, not like I already heard them talk about it. But I'm a little afraid to, because what if they say yes?

I'm trying not to think about it right now, because I don't want to take away from the really fun highlight that is coming up this Friday. I'll write about it, but first I have to explain something else fun: Pop got Miranda to join the Community Chorus!

This is a group Pop co-founded with one of the people from the Music Department at the university, only it's not just for college people, it's for any grown-up in the city whose voice is good enough. But alot of college people are in it, of course. Dr. Reese is, but Dad isn't.

The university music things are mostly only for students who are getting degrees, but Pop and Dr. Wallace (the music prof) wanted something that was just for fun, just for anybody who likes to sing. But they wanted it to be good, so they have auditions. They always do a Christmas concert and then one in the spring that is not for any particular religious holiday.

I think at first Pop wanted Stephen to join more than Miranda, because they always need men, and Pop is sure Stephen must have a nice singing voice because he sounds so smooth normally. But when Pop asked him to audition, Stephen said it was impossible because of his medical condition.

Pop thought maybe it had something to do with the injury Stephen got when he and Miranda got caught in a war* (*N.B. - - see my other journal, August 25, 2000). So Pop said, "a medical condition of the throat?" and Stephen said, "no, a medical condition of allergic reaction to any pastime involving the word 'community.'"

Pop thought that was funny; he said Stephen was just wry, not rude, and anyway, not everyone likes communal activities. It's just a matter of personal preference.

But Stephen did say that Miranda had a lovely voice and might be interested. She's a little more sociable than Stephen. So Pop asked her, and she said she'd audition, and if Pop liked her, she'd be willing to commit to at least the Christmas concert.

Pop was a little worried that her accent would stand out, but after he heard her, he said she blended well and had a high, clear sound, and that's almost as hard to come by as male participants. (What I want to know, though, is why she said she'd only do the Christmas concert? Are she and Stephen going to move away before spring? OOOOOOWWWWW! - - - - That's me screaming in pain at the thought.)

Well, anyway, Pop did invite Miranda to join the CC, and she said yes! She missed some rehearsals while she was sick, but otherwise she's very reliable (not everybody is, but you can't be too demanding with volunteers, Pop says).

When I'm a little older, I'm going to audition to be in the CC, too. They have really pretty Christmas costumes. Everybody wears their own black pants or skirts, and they all have white Rennasance-style blouses with puffy sleeves that are tight at the wrist and then have long, ruffle-y cuffs. Over top, they wear sleeveless velvet lace-up bodices, the men have green and the women have red. I really want to wear one.

Alot of the women wear pants instead of skirts, but I'm sure Miranda won't; she never does. I asked her could I see her in her costume, but she said she doesn't have it yet. Most people just order theirs from this costume catalog Pop has, but Miranda must be getting hers from someplace else, because Pop says she didn't use the catalog.

So I said to Pop, "where is she going to get hers?" And he kind of waggled his eyebrows and said, "I don't know, Gladys. Maybe she's going to conjure it out of thin air, or maybe she'll just change her regular clothes into a costume by wiggling her nose." (He was teasing me because of last summer, when I saw Miranda do the magic trick with the glasses, and Pop said then that I was like Gladys Kravitz in _Bewitched_.) I just roled my eyes at Pop.

Anyway, I can't wait to see how Miranda looks and then hear the concert. I keep bugging Pop to let me go to the rehearsals, but he just laughs and says no, I can wait and "be dazzled" like everybody else.

The concert is the fun thing that is going to happen this Friday, December 15. It's in the Woodson Auditorium on campus, and Stephen is going to come! He's going to ride with Dad and me. (Pop and Miranda have to be there earlier.)

And afterward, there's a party at the Wallaces' house. Dr. Wallace and his wife provide wine and beer and pop, and then everybody in the CC brings something. Pop is making stuffed mushroom caps. Miranda said she'll bring shortbread, the traditional Scottish kind.

"In other words, the fresh and edible kind," Stephen said. "Something unknown to these wild shores." He was sitting at the table in their kitchen when she told me about it. He hates store-bought American cookies.

I can't wait!

~ o ~ ~ O ~ ~ o ~

**December 16, 2000**

The concert was GREAT! At breakfast this morning, Pop was talking about various mistakes they made, but really, you couldn't hear any. They did lots of Christmas carols and a couple of what Pop calls "avante-garde" pieces that sounded pretty strange to me, and then they ended with the "Hallelujah Chorus," and everybody stood up. It gave me chills.

Miranda looked really nice. She still had her hair in a bun, but it was softer. And she had silver earrings on. I was right that she wore a skirt, her usual long black one. Her blouse and bodice matched the others perfectly.

It's the first time I've seen her wear something without a high collar. At breakfast, Pop said she had a "nice rack" (a nice bust-line, he meant), and of course Dad just roled his eyes. Pop burst out laughing; he loves to get Dad's goat like that.

Also, a few days ago, Pop bet Dad a kitchen-clean (that means whoever loses has to clean the whole kitchen himself after dinner) that Stephen would wear something other than his usual completely-black clothes. Pop was like, "It's Christmas, Jimmy. He'll have on _something_ seasonal, like a red tie or something, you watch. Not even the Sultan of Sarcasm is going to dress like an undertaker at Christmas."

"Not everyone feels the need to turn themselves into human Christmas trees at the holidays," Dad said. "And Stephen's not the sort to go along with the crowd. I think he'll dress just the way he normally does. So you're on, Tim."

Then Pop was like, "If he wears anything other than total black, even just dark-green socks, you lose."

Dad said, "You are not going to ask the man to show you his socks," and they laughed.

And it turns out that they both won! Because Dad was right - - Stephen's actual clothes were just black pants and a turtleneck, but it was pretty cold last night, so he wore a black overcoat, too, and he had a green-and-silver scarf with it!

Pop said it was obvious that the green was for Christmas, but Dad said the colors were pretty subdued, and that in any case, outer-wear didn't count; that was just for warmth, not a fashion choice. Pop said it did too count. So they agreed they'll each do a kitchen-clean for the other.

But I've saved the best part for last. It happened at the party after the concert. We left Pop's car on campus, and we all went to Dr. Wallace's in Dad's car. He and Pop sat in front, and I got to sit between Stephen and Miranda in the back. I was amazed that Stephen agreed to come, but like I said, he goes more places with Miranda since she was sick.

Dad spent most of the time in one corner of the living room, talking to one of the math professors. Pop was all over the place, of course, and S & M mostly kept to themselves, although I did see Miranda talking to some of the chorus members. She introduced Stephen to people, and he shook hands and talked a little, but I'm sure he would rather have been at home.

I could have gone in the back bedroom where the rest of the kids were hanging out, but the ones I knew best were Kayla Marshall and Amber Farelli, and all they want to do is talk about boys, which is okay for a while but then it gets boring. So I stayed with the grown-ups, and I'm so glad I did.

Now here's the good part. There's this woman in the creative writing department named Professor Sowinski. I've met her a couple of times at Dr. Reese's, and I don't like her. When Dr. Reese told her I was a writer, she said, "Isn't that sweet?" like I was about six, and she didn't even look at me when she said it.

Pop and Dad know her too, of course, and when I told them about it, Pop said not to mind her because she's a "sex-mad, no-talent, pea-brained hack." Dad was like, "Don't hold back, Tim. Tell us what you really think of her."

Well, she was at the party, and I was talking with Dr. Reese when Professor Sowinski barged over and butted in. She just totally ignored me again and said, "Quick, Caroline, tell me - - who's that Mr. Tall-dark-and-handsome over there, the one all in black? Do you know him?"

She meant Stephen, of course. I've said before, he's not actually handsome, but there's something about him. People find him really interesting. Professor Sowinski obviously did.

Dr. Reese wasn't too happy about being interrupted like that. She put her hand on my shoulder and said, "Jennifer, you remember my neighbor, Adela Edwards?" Dr. Reese has never said so, but I can tell she doesn't really like Professor Sowinski, either.

"Yeah, right, hi," Professor Sowinski said, but she never took her eyes off Stephen. "Come on, Caroline, spill. Who's the dishy Lord Byron?"

Dr. Reese gave up trying to make her be polite and just said, "His name is Stephen Smith. He lives - - "

But Professor Sowinski said, "Never mind that. Tell me the important things: Is he single, and if not, who is it he needs to break up with?" And she laughed really loud. I think she had alot to drink.

Dr. Reese bit her lip and snapped, "Well, he's here with his partner, if that tells you anything."

"His partner?"

"The woman next to him. Miranda Robinson."

Professor Sowinski was like, "Who, _her_?" and she jerked her head toward Miranda. "Oh, a research partner, you mean? Okay, thanks, Carrie. See you." And she took her drink and headed over toward Stephen and paid no attention when Dr. Reese started to say, "No, she's. . ."

Just then another person came up to Dr. Reese, so I slipped away and went after Professor Sowinski. I admit it, I wanted to hear what Stephen would say to her.

On the way I met Pop. He saw Professor Sowinski sort of slink up to Stephen and Miranda, and he grinned at me. "Now, _this_ is going to be fun, Della-bird," he said. I thought so, too.

Somehow Professor Sowinski managed to get herself in between Stephen and Miranda so that she could face Stephen and cut Miranda out of the conversation completely. Miranda raised her eyebrow in that way she does. I couldn't see Stephen's face, but I just know he was scowling.

Pop and I got closer, and we could hear Professor Sowinski saying, "Hi, how do you do? Stephen Smith, isn't it?"

Pop stepped right up and said, "Evening, Jen. Have you met Stephen and Miranda?" While he was talking, Miranda walked around and stood on Stephen's other side. She didn't take his arm or anything, but you could tell she was _with_ him, if you know what I mean.

And then, nooooooooooo! At that very second, Dr. Singh, who is chair of Dad's department, tapped me on the arm and said, "Good evening, Miss Adela. You enjoyed the concert?"

So of course I had to talk to him, it would have been rude not to. He's a nice man, it's not that, it's just. . .I wanted to see what was going to happen with S & M and Professor Sowinski! I knew Stephen was going to make one of his snarky remarks, and it was going to be great!

But I missed it totally! I had to wait to hear about it from Pop this morning. All I knew last night was that somehow Professor Sowinski spilled red wine all over herself, and she was wearing a white wool skirt.

It was after midnight when we all got home, and even though I pleaded with Pop to tell us everything, he said he was too tired to do the story the dramatic justice it deserved and that Dad I would just have to "possess our souls in patience" until this morning.

Dad was like, "Timothy Jevic, you are the world's biggest ham, you know that, don't you?" But then he hugged Pop and gave him a kiss. Dad really didn't mind waiting. For some reason, he's never been as interested in S & M as Pop and I are. I mean, he likes them and everything, but he's not fascinated.

But he will be once I prove to them about S & M being wiccans and having powers and all that. It's going to be really fun!

On Saturdays, we always have a nice big breakfast. Dad makes pancakes or French toast with fruit, and we have chicken sausage. The Cajun-spice kind is my favorite. Today, after we sat down, Pop FINALLY told us what happened with Stephen and Miranda and Professor Sowinski. And it was excellent, just like I knew it would be. I hate that I missed it.

But first Pop put this big piece of French toast in his mouth and chewed it really slowly until Dad finally said, "Tim. Stop torturing the child."

Pop swallowed and grinned and said, "Oh, okay. Here goes. Now Della, what's the last thing you heard before the Singh-meister swooped in and kidnapped you?"

"You asked Professor Sowinski if she'd met Stephen and Miranda yet."

"Right. Well, Jen gave Stephen that smoldering look - - you know the one, Jimmy, she always gets like that after a few glasses of wine - - and she said, 'Yes, Stephen and I are just getting acquainted.' Then she leaned close to him and smiled, and you'd have thought she had no idea Miranda was even there."

"Typical Jennifer," Dad said.

"Yep," said Pop. "Then she finally did look at Miranda, but like she was surprised to see her. Which was a bit of a feat to pull off, of course, considering that Miranda tops her by about three inches. And Jen says, "Oh, and this is your, um, research partner, or something? Er. . .Melinda?"

"Research partner?" asked Dad.

And Pop goes, "Yeah, who knows where she got that idea? Of course, it could have just been a subtle way for Jen to suggest that she couldn't imagine how their relationship would be anything but platonic."

"Since when is Jennifer Sowinski subtle?" Dad said, and I was a little surprised, because he usually doesn't like to be gossipy about his colleagues.

I was just thinking how he must _really_ not like her when Pop laughed and said, "What, you don't think she was subtle that time at Penny's New Year's Eve party?"

"What time?" I said, and Dad grimaced and said, "Tim. Della doesn't need to be hearing about this."

"No, tell me," I said, and Pop said, "Oh, it was years ago, you weren't even in school yet. Jen had a few too many at a party and draped herself around your dad and told him he was too uptight and that his problem was he just hadn't met the right woman."

"It was nothing," Dad said.

But Pop said, "It was pretty funny, actually. Although your dad was not very amused at the time, were you, Jimmy?"

"Never mind," said Dad. "What about last night?"

"Well, like I said, Jen looks at Miranda and says, 'Oh, and this is your. . .research partner? Um, Melinda?' And then Stephen stared down his nose at her- - you know how he does, like you're some gross organism from another planet - - and said, 'Her name is Miranda. And she's my bed-partner.'"

Dad practically choked. "He said _what_?"

"Did he really?" I couldn't believe he'd tell their business to someone he didn't even know. He and Miranda never say _anything_ about their private lives.

And then Pop was like, "Oh, wait, it gets better. Jen kind of blinked and looked confused - - I think she genuinely was - - and she stammered, 'I. . .you. . .she's your what?' And Stephen says, 'My bed-partner. My lover. My sexual companion. My inamoratta."

! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! \o/ \o/ \o/

Dad shook his head. "Amazing. And what did Jen do?"

Pop's mouth quirked, and I could tell he was looking forward to this. "She gave him that smouldering look again and said, 'Oooh, so you're into cougars, huh? Well, be careful; you know they have claws."

"Oh, god, she didn't," Dad said.

And I said, "What did she mean, into cougars?" I thought that was so weird until Pop explained.

He said, "That's what some people call an older woman who likes younger men." (Pop and Dad always explain stuff like that to me when I ask. I'm glad they do.)

I thought it was mean of Professor Sowinski to say that about cougars and claws, and I said so.

But Pop was like, "Don't worry, S & M didn't seem upset."

"But what did they _do_?" I said.

Pop drank a little coffee and set the mug down very carefully and then said, really off-hand, "Oh, not much. Stephen started to paw Miranda, that's all."

"Stephen pawed Miranda?" I said. "Really?" I honestly couldn't tell if Pop was joking or not.

Dad threw his napkin at Pop and said, "Now _that_ I absolutely refuse to believe."

Pop ducked and laughed. "Well, it was what passes for pawing with Brits, anyway," he said. "He put both his arms around her waist and stood behind her, and she folded her arms over his and leaned back against him."

"You're right, I'd say that counts as pawing," Dad said. "Stephen-and-Miranda-style, at least."

"But how did Professor Sowinski spill her drink?" I asked Pop.

"I'm not really sure," he said. "It was strange. She had a big glass of red wine in her hand, and after Stephen stopped feeling up Miranda. . .hahaha, all right, Jimmy, I'll stop. After a minute, Stephen and Miranda stepped away from each other, and Miranda reached into her pocket, and suddenly the wine glass just broke in Jen's hand."

I said, "It broke because Miranda reached in her pocket?"

"Oh no, that was a coincidence," Pop said. "No, it was just a weird accident. Sometimes glass just gets brittle like that. Well, the wine went all over Jen, white skirt and all. We got her some napkins, but I don't think S & M were all that unhappy about the whole thing. I saw Stephen look over at Miranda and raise his eyebrows, and she gave him this little smile."

I didn't say anything, but if you ask me, it was no coincidence. No way. Miranda obviously made it happen. It's wiccan magic power of the mind, it has to be. HAS to be. Somehow she was able to _think_ that glass to break. I bet she had a special crystal in her pocket.

This is a really great piece of evidence. Pretty soon I'll have enough to just come right out and ask S & M about being wiccans.

It wasn't long after the wine business that we left. When we got home, Miranda said thank you, it had been very pleasant outing. Pop gave me a little wink and said, "What about you, Stephen? Did you have a good time?"

Stephen said, "Well, I've certainly had worse." Which is kind of saying he didn't mind it. So I don't think they had too bad a time no matter how Professor Sowinski acted.

~ o ~ ~ O ~ ~ o ~

**December 17, 2000**

Christmas is only one week from tomorrow. Usually by this time I'm so excited I can hardly stand it, but this year I'm feeling a little down. It's because I'm getting older. Granddaddy says youth is a time for getting things and old age is a time for losing them, and now that I'm 13, I can see he's right.

This is what I'm losing: Stephen and Miranda are probably really going to move away.

Here's the story:

This afternoon, I went over to S & M's house because on Friday, Miranda said I could come by today for shortbread if I wanted to; she'd made alot of it. Well, of course I wanted to.

She came to the back door to let me in (I always go to the back, it's quicker). She was wearing her usual high-necked dress again, and her bun. Stephen wasn't there. I kept my jacket on, because it's always chilly in their house. They like it that way. Miranda says it's what she's used to, and Stephen says he doesn't understand why Americans like to turn their homes into miniature tropical zones.

But I think Miranda must have turned the heat up for me, because it got warmer all of a sudden, and I could take my coat off.

She set out some shortbread and got a glass of milk for me and tea for herself, and we sat down at the kitchen table. I like that better than being all formal in the living room because in the kitchen I don't have to worry about dropping crumbs or spilling anything. Not that I'm usually messy, but you never know.

We talked a little bit, and then I asked Miranda what she and Stephen were going to do for Christmas. And guess what - - she said they had decided to go back to Scotland to visit some friends there. They're leaving Friday and won't be back until after New Years! I'm so disappointed, because I wanted to do First Footer with them like Miranda told me about.

But I just said I hoped they'd have a good time, and then I asked did they need someone to drive them to the airport, because Dad or Pop would be glad to. She said that was very kind of us, but they'd already made "other transportation arrangements."

I said, "Scotland! I really, really want to go there someday," and she said, "Someday no doubt you shall."

And then I figured I better go ahead and ask about them moving. What's the point in not knowing? If it's going to happen, it's going to happen whether I ask or not.

So I said, "Miranda. Do you think you and Stephen will ever move back to Scotland for good?"

And she said, "We're considering it, yes."

Oh no, oh no! :( :( :( :( :( :(

I couldn't stop myself, I jumped up and threw my arms around her and said, "No, don't go!"

She seemed surprised, but she kind of hugged me back and said, "Don't fret, it won't happen immediately." And she patted my shoulder.

After I sat back down, I said, "But why do you want to leave? Don't you like it here?"

And she said they like many things here, but "your world is a complicated one, Miss Edwards, and we're finding many things about it to be more difficult than we'd expected. And to be honest, there's much that we miss about our home."

That's the thing about different cultures: stuff that seems perfectly normal and usual to you seems strange and weird to people who are from somewhere else, even a place like Scotland where they speak English and everything. I mean, I never thought anybody would find anything "difficult" about the way we live here. But maybe it's being both British _and_ wiccan in America that makes things so hard for S & M.

Just then Stephen came up from the basement (he has his workshop down there where he does experiments, but he's never let me see it). He had that wiccan power stick in his hand again, but when he saw me, he put it in his pocket and said, "Ah, Miss Edwards."

And to Miranda he said, "Is there any more shortbread, or are you afraid it will over-sweeten my disposition?"

Miranda laughed and said, "Luckily, there's not enough shortbread in the world for that. The tin is in the pantry."

Stephen got himself some and poured a cup of tea and actually sat down with us!

And then I made a decision. If they're going to be moving, I might not have many more chances to find out about them being wiccans. I thought I'd better ask while I could.

So I said, "Can I ask you something, Stephen?"

He said, "Is there a chance you'd pay any attention if I said no?"

"Do you and Miranda practice witchcraft?"

I guess I really startled him, because he'd just taken a big sip of tea, and he started choking. He coughed and coughed, and Miranda stood up to pound him on the back. And she said, "What on earth do you mean, Miss Edwards?"

I think they were both kind of unhappy with me, so I said really quickly, "Well, there was all that business last summer, and then once I heard Stephen make an incantation, and the other night Professor Sowinski's wine glass broke, and I know wiccans do mind over matter and telewhatsis, you know, moving things with your mind, because wiccans try to harness the power of the universe through concentration and crystals, and Miranda can do magic tricks, and I think maybe they are wiccan magic, and Stephen, at the party you said Miranda's an inamoratta and it sounds like a wiccan word."

I hadn't actually thought of that until that very minute, and I guess if I'd really stopped to consider it, I would have realized "inamoratta" couldn't mean anything wiccan, because Stephen wouldn't have mentioned it to Professor Sowinski of all people. But S & M were both staring at me with these amazed expressions on their faces, and it was making me nervous. Sometimes when I get nervous, I talk alot.

I went on, "It's okay if you're wiccans, I don't think there's anything wrong with it at all. I'm not one of those people who thinks you are Satanists and into black magic or anything. I think it's cool, actually, and maybe you can teach me how to break things with my mind."

Stephen had stopped coughing by this time, and he said, "No, Miss Edwards, Miranda and I are not wiccans. We do not do wiccan magic, black or otherwise. And much to what I'm sure will be the world's relief, we cannot teach you how to break things with your mind. About my supposed incantations - - I suspect those are simply the many prayers I mutter to the gods, asking for strength and patience to meet the daily trials I face in this vale of tears. As for an inamoratta. . ."

Then he stood up and did something totally astounding that put the whole wiccan thing right out of my mind for a minute. He said, "An inamoratta is someone who makes you feel like doing this."

And he swept Miranda into his arms and bent her over backward like. . .I don't know, like they were tango dancers or something.

Then he started kissing her!

I thought she might laugh or push him away, but she didn't. She just slipped her arms around him and kissed him right back.

When they finally stood up straight again, she was smiling at him, and he was wearing that special Miranda expression that he gets.

Then she said, "Stephen is correct, Miss Edwards. We are not wiccans. I'm sorry if that disappoints you; I'm sure it would be much more fun for you if we were. But I'm afraid we're just ordinary human beings."

Stephen said, "Indeed. Well, now that we've answered your questions, Miss Edwards, I think we'll have to say goodbye. It's time for Miranda's nap."

"You take naps?" I said to Miranda, because she'd made a little snorting sound. But Stephen said, "Yes, it's important that she go straight to bed this minute. We don't want her becoming ill again, do we?" And he put his arms around her.

He's right, I'd hate for Miranda to get sick again. That was scary. I don't want anyone I know to get sick at all, ever.

So I said goodbye, and Miranda said they'd see me again before they went away on their trip. As I went out the door, I saw Stephen take Miranda's hand and head toward the stairs. I bet she wouldn't take her nap at all if he didn't make her.

So I came home to write this. I'll tell Dad and Pop about it all later, but I'll say in writing here: I DO NOT WANT STEPHEN AND MIRANDA TO MOVE AWAY!

But if they do, then I know what my New Year's Resolution is going to be: I'm going to resolve to get a ton of babysitting jobs and save alot of money, and I'll get Dad and Pop to save theirs, so we can all fly over to Scotland to visit.

I'm still not sure I believe S & M about not being wiccans, though. I'll keep my eyes open. And I think I'll ask Dr. Reese's friend Judith if she can start teaching me how to do wiccan mental magic. It would be the best surprise for S & M. I can't wait to see their faces when I get to Scotland and float a glass or something across the room to them.

And not this year, but one of these years, I think it might be nice to have an inamoratta of my own.

~~fin

Thanks for reading and reviewing! I always appreciate it, and so does Adela.


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